So you have dreams, who doesn’t. Dreams change, they stay the same, some make it, some don’t. Some say, “Failure isn’t an option,” but life dictates another reality. There’s something to be said for those who don’t give up, but there’s also a degree of clarity for those who’ve arrived at that narrow corridor of the status quo. What’s giving up anyway? For you it might mean never having achieved New York Times best-seller status, for some it might be falling out of the routine of writing, singing, or whatever it was that moved you to pursue something greater than what was expected from you, or what you had expected of yourself.
If anyone ever tells you, “I’m completely devoted mind, body, and soul to my job while I’m at work,” this person is likely the biggest, fattest liar you know. Why? People daydream while they’re driving, while they’re having family interventions, during sex, the moment one realizes someone is staring at them in an extremely close and uncomfortable manner. We all daydream. My job is typically, almost always, quiet and most time the only way around it is to talk to my co-worker, raise some hell, or think up pleasant or horrifying scenarios in my head; my favorite on being finding a huge stash of money while I’m walking my dog, in all honesty it’s my most replayed fantasy.
Since working in a beige box doesn’t provide much of a jumping point for creative stimulation, I have reliable sources of mental inspiration. Here are some thoughts that help get me through the day.
We headed to the Brooklyn Flea Market this Sunday because we wanted to find treasures, possibly find something vintage, possibly something with history, possibly a Pokemon card (which was my goal, essentially). We ended up almost getting run over by the bike race (cough, cough, Devin) and making friends with the Dough guy (Imani). We did find tons of treasures too, but we just didn’t buy them.
It was a nice day to do it. The writerly weirdoes we are loved the oncoming storm and semi-rain as we sat and ate on the cement ground. My allergies were hell, but it didn’t get in the way of me enjoying the day. I was just more mucus-y about it.
We found a collection of really random things, like wooden spools or empty tobacco tins. We sorted through racks of second hand lace dresses, which prompted an interesting story idea for Imani, Devin looked over old maps for her walls, and the sentimental part of me went through wooden drawers full of toys, feeling nostalgic. I did try to find Pokemon cards (no such luck) but also a Demetri action figure. Continue reading